Not Exactly a Fairytale
by officerlunchbox
Summary: That 6 minute promo gave me a lot of Gail/Holly/Haircut feelings and I had to spill them out. One shot about how Gail gets to be in that bathroom with that haircut that gives me feelings. So many feelings.


**Because that 6 minute promo gave me a ****_lot_**** of Gail haircut feelings and I needed a way to deal with them. Let me know what you think. **

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Gail shivered at the icy sensation of cold whiskey splashing down her throat clashing with the red hot trail it left behind. She couldn't remember how many drinks she'd had, or when she'd even started drinking. She remembered an empty interrogation room, Holly's fear-stricken eyes, warm lips on hers, and confusion. She remembered teary eyed introductions at the hospital and not letting go of Holly's soft hand. She remembered a week spent ignoring the only person who made her feel safe, a week of unanswered texts, a week of hiding, and a key dropped at her apartment with the note, "If you decide to come down from that tree, you know where to find me. -H."

Gail flipped the key through her fingers and over the wood of the bar's surface. She'd been contemplating her next move since she'd walked through the bar's threshold and beelined for the whiskey. She didn't know why she'd chosen tonight, a particularly un-eventful Thursday, to deal with the shiny metal key that'd been left for her, but she did.

It wasn't that Holly was a woman, not entirely anyway. Gail was bad at relationships, she'd never had good luck in that department. She'd been abandoned more times than she could count, but something about Holly terrified her. Maybe it was how instantly comfortable Gail felt around her, or the way she just sort of knew what to say and do at the right time. Gail was bound to screw that up without a moment's notice. And, okay, if she was being honest, these feelings for a—a woman?—were terrifying. New. Different. She was having a hard time dealing with her emotions, to say the least.

Gail took one last gulp of her whiskey, grabbed the metal key, and slid off the solid bar stool. She stepped outside into the cool spring air and started walking. She didn't know how she knew where she was going (it didn't have anything to do with the little police investigating she did on Holly, no not at all…) until she ended up outside Holly's apartment complex. She stared up at the looming brick building. She knew Holly lived on the 5th floor, in apartment 508. She knew Holly was well aware of Gail's investigating, it's why she didn't bother writing it in the note. Before she could bail, as usual, she stormed up the front stairs and towards the bank of elevators. It was only 8 pm, but the lobby was quiet as were the elevators. She pressed the button for floor 5 and waited, continuing to spin the key through her fingers.

After what felt like an eternity, the elevator stopped, a bell rang and the doors slid open. An empty hallway greeted Gail as she stepped out and looked at the numbers on the doors around her. She wandered a few doors down before coming to stand before apartment 508. She could knock, it'd be polite, and she should have called, it'd be logical. Gail didn't even know if Holly was home, hadn't spoken to her since before the key had landed in her mailbox.

Gail pressed her forehead against the cool metal of the door in front of her, took three deep breaths, and put the key in the lock. She slowly turned the handle and let herself in. The open floor plan apartment sprang into her vision. It was dark, lit only by the light of the street lamps streaming in through the window. Holly wasn't here, Gail knew without even calling out for her. It had been empty all day, lacking the sweet smell of Holly's presence. Gail flipped a light switch and went straight for Holly's kitchen, searching for more liquor. She stumbled upon a crystal decanter filled with clear brown, sweet smelling liquid. She grabbed a glass from the cabinet, surprised that she knew which cabinet to open without thinking twice, and poured herself a drink.

She grabbed her drink and wandered through the apartment, until she found herself staring into Holly's bathroom mirror at her pale face. Dark circles faintly shadowed under her eyes and she couldn't remember when her expression had turned so sour. She turned her head slightly and glanced at her long ponytail hanging down her back. She'd felt so different than she had just 7 days before. Before shots fired in her direction, before Dov's chipper girlfriend had been bleeding out from a bullet wound in her neck. Before she'd attached her lips to Holly's in that interrogation room. Gail had changed a lot over the years, but gradually, nothing this dramatic. She suddenly felt like a whole new person standing in front of that mirror, and yet she looked exactly the same.

She couldn't figure out why, but it pissed her off that she looked the same as 7-days ago Gail. As last month Gail. She took a swig from her stolen whiskey glass, and before she knew what she was doing she was reaching for the pair of scissors in Holly's bathroom cabinet. She grabbed her ponytail in one hand and quickly snipped it off with the other. She held the shorn ponytail in her hand, leaned on the edge of the sink, and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was now just above shoulder length, and didn't look half bad. Still, she cut more, blonde hair falling on her shoulders and into the sink in front of her. She kept cutting, trimming the sides to her ears, the back close to her neck. She probably would have kept going if she could figure out how to trim her bangs just right. If the door of Holly's apartment hadn't just opened. If she hadn't just heard that voice. Holly's voice, echoing across the open apartment. She would have kept going if she could.

But she couldn't. Holly was there, in the bathroom. She was there staring at Gail and her hair. Hair on the floor, in the sink, all over her shirt. Saying her name, softly at first, full of worry. Stronger then as she stepped closer. Louder in Gail's ear as she pulled her close.

"I think I messed up on the bangs. They're too long, but I can't look at them without going cross-eyed." Gail mumbles into Holly's neck. Holly pulls back, tracing her fingers through Gail's platinum bangs. She grabs the scissors from her resting hands. She sits down, pulling Gail down with her.

"I think I can fix it, if you trust me to try," Gail doesn't respond just closes her eyes and leans in slightly. Holly carefully takes Gail's face in her hands and begins trimming the longer hair falling across her forehead. Gail opens her eyes and finds Holly's face inches from her. Her hands cupping her jaw, her cheeks, holding her still. Holly holds the scissors still, before pulling them away, not breaking eye contact. She leans into Gail and kisses her gently, cautiously on the mouth. The kiss is quick, but sweet and full of promise. When Holly pulls away her gaze remains strong.

"I never believed in fairytales," Gail starts after a short silence, "you know glass slippers and happily ever after? It just wasn't something I'd ever thought could happen for me. I met you and I thought, maybe this is my version of a fairytale. Someone who understood me, accepted me, loved me. It's stupid, right? To believe in fairytales? I swear I didn't think I did, but here I am hoping you're mine."

"It's not stupid to want to be happy Gail. You deserve to be happy. And us? Not exactly a fairytale. Still kinda beautiful though," Holly responds with a reassuring smile. A smile that lets Gail know she's okay, they're okay. The world will keep turning, whether they like it or not, and she smiles back. A real smile, for the first time since 7-days ago Gail left. Since before she was who she is now. Who she plans on being until she's not.

"And Gail? I really like your new haircut," Holly whispers, leaning in for another soft, gentle kiss.


End file.
